by Lynsey James
Instead, I opt for, ‘why don’t we talk about it at the family dinner eh?’
I am the queen of stalling for time.
Chapter Fifteen
My baby book says there are a lot of things to expect in your second trimester: dry skin, leg cramps and the baby starting to kick, for example.
It doesn’t, however, prepare me for hearing from Amanda Best.
An email from her pops into my inbox a week or so after she saw me being escorted out of The Baby Boutique. Seeing her name at the top of my unread list strikes a chord of terror through me, although I know I’ve got nothing to be frightened of.
From: Amanda Best
Subject: Hey fellow mummy-to-be!
Just dropping you a quick email to say I’ll be back in Silverdale in the next few weeks and wondering if you fancy doing a prenatal yoga class together? I know I mentioned it when we saw each other at the bakery a while back, but we didn’t really have time to arrange anything. It’d be so lovely to see you; since we’re due around the same time we could be bump buddies! Let me know when you’re free.
Amanda
Wow.
No caustic remarks, no back-handed compliments or subtle digs. I’m shocked. I sit back on my computer chair and look at the email for a moment, deciding how to reply. Amanda has never been my favourite person to spend time with – mainly because she bullied me for most of high school – but we sort of cleared the air at our reunion last year. I remember seeing her at the twelve-week scan and how alone she looked. Although she gave me some waffle about her boyfriend being at work and her mum being busy, I could tell she was hiding something.
Maybe being bump buddies with her won’t be such a bad thing?
I quickly type back that I’d love to go to a prenatal yoga class with her and to let me know when she’s back in Silverdale so we can book one.
As I shut the computer off, my mind wanders to the last time I got an email from her, inviting me to our high school reunion. Things have changed so much since then; she seems to have lost her acerbic edge, and we’re both pregnant with our first babies. Although I suspect her circumstances are quite different to mine.
I can’t dwell on what she might be hiding for too long though. Tonight’s the big family dinner at Marilyn’s. And the night I’m going to ask Scott to give us another try.
*
Marilyn and Donald, Scott’s stepdad, live in a huge sprawling estate deep in the countryside, about an hour away from Silverdale. The National Trust is dying to get its hands on the house apparently, and when you see it it’s not hard to imagine why.
A long, tree-lined gravel drive leads the way up to Old Hall. The exterior is a beautiful honey colour, with twin stone staircases leading up to the front door. The gardens are expertly landscaped and the Rolls-Royces are parked out front, just in case anyone had any doubts about how rich the house’s occupants might be.
‘This is beautiful,’ I say, even though I’ve been here before. ‘I can’t believe you used to live here, Scott.’
He shrugs. ‘It was only for a couple of years then I moved out to go to uni. It’s a stunning place though. Be prepared for Mum offering you the grand tour.’
My mum lets out a little grunt from the back and I shoot her a warning look in the rearview mirror. We’ve already had a very tense conversation about her behaviour tonight. She sees me and gives a sheepish grin, before Dad reaches over and gives my shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
Scott parks the car next to one of the Rolls-Royces and we all clamber out. His red Honda Civic looks pretty out of place next to the trio of classic cars, but I don’t say anything. I can tell from the look on his face that he’s thinking exactly the same thing.
‘You know,’ he says, folding his arms. ‘I think I’ll get a new car. Something a bit bigger with four doors. This isn’t really suitable for a family, is it?’
I frown. ‘It’s OK! Plenty of room in the back for a car seat and the boot’s big enough for a fold-down pram.’
He nods, but I can tell he’s not convinced. I make a mental note to have a chat with him later as we head up the stone steps towards the front door. Just as we reach the top, a tall gentleman dressed in a tuxedo appears. I recognise him as Archie, the Chambers’ butler.
‘Good evening ladies and gentlemen.’ His voice is so posh it could cut glass. ‘Mr and Mrs Chambers would like you to make your way to the drawing room for pre-dinner drinks.’
Scott pats him on the shoulder and thanks him as the rest of us file into the hallway. The walls are painted a muted shade of lemon and the parquet flooring has been varnished to perfection. A huge chandelier hangs from the ceiling, a sweeping staircase leads to the house’s upper floors and a huge mahogany grandfather clock provides a striking centrepiece. This place is seriously posh.
Archie shows us to the drawing room, where the lord and lady of the house are waiting to greet us.
‘Darling!’ Marilyn says, approaching Scott with open arms. ‘How are you?’
‘Nice to see you, Mum’ he replies with a warm smile.
She takes a step back to look at him and shakes her head. ‘You’re too thin, are you eating properly? I don’t know how you can follow all that clean eating nonsense.’
He rolls his eyes. ‘I’m eating just fine, please don’t start fussing.’
I feel Mum approach from behind me and flash her frenemy a tight smile. I cross my fingers that we’ll manage to keep the peace between them tonight.
‘Hello Marilyn.’ Her voice brings an icy chill with it that I hope isn’t a sign of things to come. ‘It’s nice to see you again.’
It’s a tense few seconds as I wait for Scott’s mum to react. Will she be all sweetness and light or match Mum’s chilly tone?
‘How wonderful to see you, Nina. That’s a lovely dress you’re wearing; looks just like a Versace one I have hanging in my wardrobe. It’s amazing the designer duplicates you can find on the high street, isn’t it?’
I bite my lip and flash Scott a panicked look, mouthing ‘not again’.
‘OK ladies, let’s play nice,’ he says, standing in between them and putting his arms round them both. ‘Let’s not have a repeat performance of the baby shopping trip eh?’
Both of them nod and mutter that they’ll be on their best behaviour. Scott has a knack for getting the best out of people; it’s why he’s such a successful trainer with so many happy clients. My eyes drift towards his bum, which looks exceptionally good tonight in a par of dark jeans. I swallow hard and try to control myself. Nothing’s happened between us since our last kiss and with the baby to think about, it might be best to keep it that way, no matter how much I’d like things to move forward.
That bum though …
Archie comes back with glasses of champagne, passing them around to everybody except me.
‘A glass of sparkling French mineral water, madam,’ he says, handing me a champagne flute of my own.
I look up and see Mum muttering away to herself, probably about how pretentious her rival is. As long as the muttering stays under her breath, we might just get through this evening in one piece.
*
After pre-dinner drinks are finished, we move through to the palatial dining room and take our seats at the long oak dining table. Mum sits opposite Dad and I sit opposite Scott, while Marilyn and Donald sit at opposite ends of the table.
While we wait for Archie to bring the starters out, Marilyn rises from her seat and picks up her glass of champagne. From her slight sway and bloodshot eyes, it’s clear to see it’s definitely not her first.
‘Before we eat our chef Arnold’s sumptuous food, I’d like to propose a toast,’ she says. She looks at Scott and me with a dreamy smile on her face. ‘To Scott and Cleo; you’re two wonderful people who’ll soon be welcoming your own wonderful person into the world. You’ve made Donald and I unbelievably happy.’
Everyone smiles and lifts their glasses as she sits down again. Maybe this dinner party will be a lovely family affair af
ter all.
‘Although I think I speak for everyone here when I say we’d love to see you give your relationship another try,’ says Marilyn.
Scratch that last thought then.
Scott rolls his eyes and he casts his mum a warning glare. ‘Not this again, Mum.’
‘Darling, you can look at me like that all you want but it’s true. You two are perfect for one another; you just need to put your differences aside and realise that for yourselves. It would be good for the baby too. Children need loving, stable environments, especially in the early years.’
‘Well that was an … interesting toast, love,’ Donald says with a grimace. ‘There is a lot to think about though, you two. The logistics for one thing; going back and forth between two houses won’t be practical, especially not in the first few weeks. And you’ll have to be on the same page parenting-wise, so you don’t end up undermining each other.’
Scott opens his mouth to answer, but he’s briefly interrupted as Archie arrives with the starters. He wheels the trolley round the table, placing plates in front of us.
‘Warm tender stem broccoli with a poached hen’s egg and Béarnaise sauce,’ he announces before leaving.
‘Actually Donald, I’m going to be moving in with Cleo in a couple of weeks. I’ll be staying there until a few weeks after the baby’s born. See? We’ve got it all figured out,’ he says with a quick smile.
Donald raises his eyebrows before turning his attention to his starter. It’s not clear whether he approves of the idea, but no doubt we’ll hear all about it later when he’s had more sherry.
‘Did I hear that correctly?’ Marilyn’s voice travels all the way down the table. ‘You’re going to be living together again?’
‘That’s right,’ I reply with a smile. I’m a little amused to see we’ve surprised her. She’s usually so solid and in control.
‘That’s the first I’ve heard about it,’ Mum said, obviously miffed. ‘What do you think about that, Dave?’
Dad’s too busy tucking into his starter to pay much attention. After a nudge from Mum, he lifts his head.
‘If the kids are happy with that, just let them get on with it,’ he says. ‘It’s their life, Nina. I think it’s a good idea actually. It’s not like she’ll be able to manage on her own, is it?’
It’s my turn to get annoyed. ‘Oh, and why’s that Dad? It’s the twenty-first century, in case you haven’t noticed. Women raise kids by themselves all the time.’
Dad starts spluttering out an apology before deciding it’d be safer to concentrate on his food.
‘That’s a very good point, darling,’ Marilyn says as she refills her champagne glass, ‘I raised Scott by myself for years before Donald came along. That being said, I’d love to see you two kiss and make up. Scott told me what happened, Cleo, and I really think it’d be best if you stopped holding Australia over his head and got back together with him.’
Scott sighs and puts his head into his hands. ‘Mum, for God’s sake! It’s none of your business; we don’t have to be together to be good parents. Being apart and happy is better than staying together and being fucking miserable.’
My head snaps up to look at him. I feel a stab of pain in my heart and tears well up in my eyes. Is that what he thinks would happen if we got back together? Or maybe that’s how he always felt when he was with me? To think I’d considered asking him to try again …
‘Wow,’ I whisper.
‘Cleo, I—’
Archie comes to clear the starters, calling for a temporary ceasefire in our argument. He returns moments later with the main course: fillet of turbot with roasted celeriac, truffle puree and a red wine glaze.
Thank God there’s only one more course after this, I say to myself.
‘Here’s a question.’ Donald is clearly feeling bold now that he’s had a couple more glasses of sherry. ‘I want to know how the numbers stack up. Have you got a savings plan in place? Being parents for eighteen years doesn’t come cheap, you know.’
‘I’m working two jobs,’ I reply, ‘and Scott’s got his training business, which is doing really well. We’re fine as far as money goes. It might be a bit tougher when I’m on maternity leave, but we won’t starve.’
As soon as the personal training business is mentioned, Scott’s stepdad shakes his head and sighs.
‘Oh yes,’ he says with a sharp edge to his voice. ‘The training business.’
Donald has never been the biggest fan of Scott’s choice of career. And it seems like that particular wound is about to be reopened. No matter how successful he is, his stepdad will never acknowledge it because he doesn’t wear a suit and sit in an office for a living.
‘Donald.’ Marilyn shoots him daggers and her voice is a low growl. ‘Not tonight.’
‘Here we go again,’ Scott mutters under his breath.
‘No Marilyn, this needs to be said,’ he declares. ‘Scott, you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. You’re charismatic and know how to get the best out of people. Why you want to tell people what to eat for a living, I’ve no idea. You could come and work for me – you’d earn over double what you’re earning now! What do you say? It’s not just about you now, you know; you’re going to have a baby to think of before you know it.’
Scott purses his lips, choosing his next words with caution. ‘Donald, that’s a really kind offer, but you’ve asked me to come and work for you before and I’ve said no. Financial management just isn’t where I want to be. I enjoy helping my clients reach their goals and seeing them progress. I make enough money and I’m expanding my business all the time.’
Donald’s mouth sets into a stern line. ‘I just hate to see you wasting your potential, Scott! You could have done anything at university. You could’ve gone into finance or law or maybe even medicine. If you’d just pushed yourself, you’d a great career now with a steady income. Are you going to teach your child that it’s OK to be mediocre?’
‘That’s enough!’ I snap.
I can tell Donald’s throwaway remark has hurt Scott’s feelings, even before he retaliates. ‘I make more than enough money to give my baby a good life and what’s more, I’m happy in what I do. I wasn’t handed my life on a silver platter like you were; I’ve worked hard to get where I am. Maybe I could’ve pursued a career that made me more money than I’m earning now, but I decided to do what made me happy instead. Call me what you like Donald, but don’t you fucking dare call me mediocre.’
‘Scott isn’t mediocre; he helps people every day and makes a difference to their lives. Plus, he loves what he does and that’s what matters at the end of the day.’
Donald shakes his head again, like he’s reaching the end of his tether. ‘Sweetheart, if there’s one thing you should know about Scott by now, it’s that he revels in going against what his mum and I want for him. We had such high hopes for him: go to university, get a steady job, meet a nice girl and settle down. But, no; he took off round the world instead, does jumping jacks for a living and now … Well, he’s having a baby with you.’
There’s something about his tone that unsettles me. ‘What does that mean?’
Scott decides now is the perfect time to join in again. ‘Yeah Donald, what does it mean?’
‘Cleo, you’re a lovely girl and Marilyn and I absolutely adore you. It’s just … well, we’ve seen Scott be in difficult relationships before with girls who carried their fair share of baggage and it took its toll on him. Something as serious as an eating disorder is bound to put a strain on any relationship. Talking of which, I hope you’re taking steps to manage your eating disorder. I’d hate to think of the baby growing up in a chaotic environment.’
I feel as though I’ve had the wind knocked out of me. He’s managed to tap into my biggest fear – that my previous experiences will affect my ability to be a good mother. My body begins to shake and I pray to whoever’s listening that nobody can see it.
‘Not that it’s any of your business, but my eating disorder is und
er control. It has been for well over a year. I’ve arranged to have counselling to give me extra support through the pregnancy. And what exactly do you mean by a chaotic environment?’
Scott’s jaw drops and he glares at his stepdad. ‘Cut it out, Donald. You can criticize me until you’re blue in the face because, quite frankly, I don’t care. I know you’ll never really be proud of me unless I come and work for you. But don’t you dare say a word about Cleo! She’s the strongest, most capable woman I know and the way she’s got her eating disorder under control is amazing.’
Hearing him stick up for me would once have made me smile, but I just divert my gaze to the floor. His words are still ringing in my ears: being apart and happy is better than staying together and being fucking miserable.
‘I think I’m going to leave,’ I announce, scraping my chair back and getting to my feet. ‘This has been an absolute disaster.’
‘Don’t go!’ Marilyn clambers out of her chair and tries to make her way over to me. ‘We haven’t had pudding yet! Apple and cinnamon crumble with vanilla custard.’
I force a tight smile onto my face. ‘As tempting as that sounds, I think I’m going to go home.’
‘I’ll drive you home,’ Scott says, running a hand through his hair. ‘Dave, Nina, do you guys want a lift home?’
They nod and quietly get up to leave. Poor Marilyn tries to convince everyone to stay, proffering everything from port to parlour games. As far as we’re all concerned though, the evening’s ruined. I can barely look at Scott as we make our way out to the car.
‘Darling,’ Marilyn says, clutching onto his shirt. ‘You know Donald doesn’t mean it, don’t you? He’s awfully proud of you, really. I told him to stay away from the sherry.’
‘We’ll talk about it tomorrow, OK?’ he says, giving her a quick hug before heading down the stone steps. When he reaches me, I can see his face is contorted with rage. I think about reaching out to touch him, but decide to climb into the car instead.
‘I’m so sorry everyone,’ he says when we’re all safely inside. ‘I don’t know how things went so wrong, to be honest. There was absolutely no excuse for Donald saying those things. At least I know what he thinks of my career now though! Not that there was any doubt. I’ve heard it a million times.’